The home salad at Wedgwood Broiler is a normcore dream.
I knew one thing dangerous was going to occur the final time I ate on the Wedgwood Broiler as a result of my salad arrived with solely three Cheez-It crackers on prime. Normally, it comes with 4. 5 is an effective day, and if there have been six, I’d purchase a lottery ticket. The amount of chopped salami slices varies much less.
The home salad comes as an choice with all of the burgers, sandwiches, and steaks, and the Wedgwood Broiler is the one place I ever flip down fries in favor of a salad (although generally I simply ask for each). I often order mine with ranch dressing, perhaps honey-mustard for a special day. The unfancy dish matches in properly with the Sixties suburban front room vibes of the decor. The supervisor does, too, when he makes duck noises to entertain my youngsters like a useful uncle.
Not lengthy after that meal, I discovered that I had solely two years left to dig into my beloved pile of chopped iceberg lettuce, with its duo of absurdly unusual toppings. The renderings for the event slated to be constructed the place the Wedgwood Broiler now sits got here out in March, beginning the countdown clock on the 55-year-old restaurant’s closure.
Whereas I’m hopeful the Wedgwood Broiler will discover a new house, I can’t take any dangers after a three-cracker salad. I’ll be again in, attempting for a fortunate seven, till the bulldozers toss me to the curb.
